


Seek Ye First the Kingdom

by Cumberbatch Critter (ivelostmyspectacles)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, M/M, Married Life, Post-Game(s), Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-14 01:44:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12997113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/Cumberbatch%20Critter
Summary: "We have more important things to worry about."Noctis takes his face in his hands. “Nothing is more important than you,” he says.





	Seek Ye First the Kingdom

**Author's Note:**

> Day five of Ignis Fluff! Prompt: Canon? What canon? / "Happy (holiday), Ignis."
> 
>    
> okay so technically birthdays aren't really holidays but too bad

_But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you. Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. - Matthew 6:33-34_

 

* * *

 

It is five thirty-seven in the morning, and something has woken him. Namely, the lack of the king sprawled half atop him, a habit never grown out of. Ignis had begun to permit himself later mornings ever since Noctis’s ascendancy to the throne, seeing as how the king’s day didn’t start until late. Therefore, five thirty-seven is far too early, and Ignis groans as his fingers fall away from the ball bearings on his watch.

Attempting to go back to sleep will be in vain. The bed’s too large when he’s alone. Tolerable when he knows Noctis won’t be there, concerning when he knows he should be. He slides into his slippers and plucks his robe from the chair to go find him.

He isn’t in the en-suite, and not in the hallway. Ignis passes one of their staff in the hallway and stops her. “The king?” he rasps, too disoriented for proper conversation.

“King Ignis.” She bows, and he doesn’t bother to correct her. He had always been content with King Consort, but Noctis had never let him take on a title of any less than his own. “King Noctis went to the kitchens, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you.” He tucks his robe closer around himself. The February air is unforgiving on his bare ankles. A mid-morning snack. That _is_ surprising. Nowadays, Noctis rarely eats breakfast, much to Ignis’s disdain. To be up specifically for food is uncommon, nevermind this early. Nevermind not letting the staff bring it to him.

The walk to the kitchen seems long. He’s really gotten himself off a proper sleeping schedule, but he can’t bring himself to mind terribly. He’s quite fond of the press of Noctis’s body curled up against his in the morning, sleepy kisses and the pass of warm hands over his skin. Noctis kissing the scars on his face. Ignis kissing the scars on the Chosen King’s chest.

“Noct?” he mumbles, squinting against the impression of bright, fluorescent light.

Noctis groans. A mug is set down. Palms are pressed against the countertop.

Ignis carefully weaves around the counter until he’s at Noctis’s side, hand falling to brush against his arm. “What are you doing up?”

“You really can’t let me manage _one_ surprise, can you?” If he’s trying to sound accusatory, he is failing.

“A surprise?” Ignis echoes, and his curiosity is stalled as the king leans in to kiss him. It would be more comfortable in bed, he admits, but this still remains to be more than okay. “Noct?” he murmurs, questions, after a moment of this. Noctis’s hands are on his face, weathered now from work and age, ever so gentle and light. Ignis’s hands have settled on his hips, and then his chest, and he has to bring himself to push him back an inch to get an answer to his question. “What is this about?”

Noct laughs; it’s more a tired-sounding snort, but Ignis is being kind. “Your _birthday_ , Specs. I’m working on breakfast in bed, although now the surprise is… not one. Jeez…”

Recognition hits like a pillow to the face. “Oh.” It’s simply another day to him. He makes no room for it on their docket. It shouldn’t surprise him, after all these years, that Noctis still does. He is surprised, anyway.

Noctis notices. “Every _year_ , Specs, we literally go through this _every. year._ ” He’s laughing, and Ignis smiles, sheepish.

“I keep forgetting.”

“How do you forget your own birthday?”

“We have more important things to worry about,” he reminds; it is his argument every year.

Noctis takes his face in his hands. “Nothing is more important than you,” he says; it is his response, every year. He kisses him, a little harder, as if he’s proving a point he hasn’t proven before. The beard tickles. Ignis laughs and shoves at his shoulder.

“Noct.”

“Happy birthday, Ignis.”

Ignis’s smile softens. He can hear it in Noctis’s voice, too. Some things have changed. Some things haven’t. He curves a hand around the king’s neck and returns to kissing him slowly. A thank you. An I love you. Wordless. No, some things really never do change.

Ignis is glad.


End file.
